Complaints the Fourth
by misunderstoodemon
Summary: The seven visit Little Britches and are not pleased with what they find. Surveillance cameras becoming more mangled as time goes by. Rating for language. REVIEWS!
1. Family, Shotguns and lots of Whiskey

Authors Note: Well, these stories seem to have taken on a life of their own, but the end is in sight! Whether that's a good thing or not I have yet to determine.

Disclaimer: This is all for fun, even if the boys don't think so (their eyes are still recovering from the torrent of badfic they have been subjected to. If you were in any one of the worst fics I have read (damn research), you'd be dead. Both because you're not them, and because you'd have committed suicide by now.)

"I am a miniature version of myself."

"Me too."

"I'm little."

"I'm your dad."

"Oh, hell."

"He is too."

"I'm your brother."

"I'm your father."

"I have an evil twin brother."

"Me?"

"Yep."

"Not surprising really."

"The terrible twins are twins."

"Not good."

"Now they have a real reason to team up on everyone else instead of each other. Wonderful."

"I'm your husband."

"Gross."

"I'm yours."

"Absolutely disgusting."

"I just escaped from a mental institution."

"Naturally."

"Natural that he was committed or that he escaped?"

"Both."

"Uh huh."

"I just got bit by my horse."

"I let you have a horse?"

"Yup."

"Stupid."

"Peso bit me."

"No surprise there."

"Nah, not really."

"And I suppose you instantly forgave him?"

"A'course."

"Of course."

"Oh, gosh."

"What is it this time?"

" 'I am your father'?"

"Uh huh." whimper

"I am afraid that our ages are far to close in proximity for any one of you to be my paternal parent."

"He means you're not old enough to be his dad."

"Right."

"Plus, you and Maude would've killed each other by then."

"Damn straight."

"Oh dear. Maude is Sarah, who ran out on you for an unknown reason, renamed Adam Ezra, and has been on the run since. He's now seven."

"No!"

"Damn it all."

"JD, how are you coming with that hacking?"

"Pretty good. I should be in by eight."

"What's takin' so long, kid?"

"They hired another hacker to encode their system."

"Ah."

"I can get in, but it'll take time."

"Fine. Keep working."

"Gahg!

"What, Buck?"

"I have a son who's in his twenties, out to kill me, and do his level best to ruin the world in the meantime."

"And?"

"He's either you, or Mary's his mom or both."

"Oh, God."

"Get the beer."

"And the shotguns."

"And lots of whiskey."

As always, review. The fics mentioned in here are real. I really did read one where Ezra was Maude and Chris' son. Please, don't get me started. Just click the little greyie-bluie-purplie buttony thingydown there, and we'll all be happy.


	2. Hacking and Potential Revenge

Authors Note: Well, they're back. And they're seeking revenge... Can you blame them?

Disclaimer: I wish I owned them, I really do- if I had Vin, Ezra, or Josiah, or any one of them , I'd be a happy fangirl. After all, where one of them goes, the others go too, right? But I don't own them. (if I did, they'd have to go through a lot less than if some others owned them... grumble)

"Have you got it yet, JD?"

"No, not yet."

"Now?"

"No."

"How 'bout now?"

"No!"

"Now?"

"NO!"

"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasenow?"

"NOW!"

"Everyone quiet!"

"Yes, Chris."

"Thank you."

"Got it?"

"Chris!"

"Sorry."

"Can you tell we're a little over-eager?"

"Not at all. Trigger-happy, yes."

"Yeah."

"Got it!"

"Names?"

"Yup."

"E-mails?"

"Stats?"

"Yes."

"Save it all to this drive."

"K."

"And erase the earmarked fics."

"Done."

collective sigh

"Hot damn that felt good."

"Hallelujah, my faith is renewed."

"We are saved."

"No longer spied upon."

"Beat."

"Shot."

"Stabbed."

"Injured."

"Slashed."

"Broken."

"Bled."

"We have emerged from Purgatory, Brothers."

"Amen."

"Now that we have names and e-mails, the real fun begins."

cracks knuckles

"When the cat's been caught..."

"The mice take revenge."

many guns are locked and loaded

"Let's hit the road, boys."

"Time to have some real fun."

"Hell yeah."

"Yeehaw!

"Where's the first one, JD?"

"Three hours north."

"Boys, let's move out."

As always, reviews are more than welcome. This will probably be the third last chapter/fic in this series, but still feel free to send me any cliches I've missed- I don't think I could stand much more badfic...


	3. Breaking Point Reached

Authors Note: OK, this has gone far enough. They have finally forced me into a 'revenge' mode (that and the Merchant of Venice...), thus, this chapter. This is a bit of a prequel or companion to the next chapter, which will be up shortly.

Disclaimer: If I did own them, I would be out there with them, hunting down badfic writers. Instead, I am cooped up in my basement while cats and dogs are falling from the sky outside. Obviously, I don't own them.

They have finally had enough.

They have been suffering for years, and have finally reached their breaking point.

No more bounty hunters, sisters, mothers, mysterious fathers, unaccountable allergies, twin brothers previously unaccounted for, or the dreaded Mary Sues. No more being gay, alcoholic, self-destructive bastards or complete pansies. No more marrying best friend. Or your worst enemy. No more stitching, relocating, putting pressure on the wound, pink casts, shaved heads, tumors, strokes, bullet holes, stab wounds, concussions, contusions, lacerations, slashes, being crushed, disabled, maimed for life, or otherwise injured. No more unknown brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, wives, or other relations to come back and haunt them. No more being each others brothers, fathers, sons, twins separated at birth, uncles, cousins, or any other kind of relative. No more just being the Doc, the religious one, the kid or the I-can-kill-you-with-one-look-leader.

They have had enough.

Think it took them long enough?

And they've got names, addresses, phone numbers, whiskey, and guns.

REALLY big guns.

And ear plugs.

And bullet-proof vests.

And a hell of a lot more hatred than you have lust.

And guess what?

They're coming for you.

Wait, never mind.

They're he-ere.

Next chapter soon to follow. Reviews appreciated. Muse starving. HELP!


	4. Mary Lou aka Sweet, sweet revenge

Authors Note:Sorry so long between update- RL is hell. I hate finals.

OK, this is the last one in the Complaints series. If therer is enough of an outcry, and I can dig up some new cliches (or find new ways to gripe about old ones. Heh.), I may add a few more chapters to 1, 2 or 3. If you have any ideas, feel free to e-mail me or put them in a review.

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys, nor do I own Arby's. If there is someone out there with the handle 7VTLuvr, I apologize. Mary Lou was not meant to be anyone in particular, and you can have her if you want. My closet is getting awfully crowded.

Mary Lou was, all in all, a fairly ordinary girl.

She went to school, usually did her homework, occasionally skipped class, and thought her parents had no clue whatsoever. She hated math, had waited eagerly for her Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven, spent more time talking to friends than listening to teachers, and knew some stuff she probably shouldn't.

Mary Lou was a fairly ordinary teenage girl, all things considered.

The key word is 'fairly'.

Because she was also an obsessive fangirl, a fanfic writer (of rotten quality), advocate of Vinjury, a Chris/Mary shipper, and one of those horribly annoying people who wrote everything like it was a text message.

OK, maybe she wasn't as normal as she would like to think, but you get the point.

The particular night we are interested in was like any other for Mary Lou. She had chatted with friends, eaten supper, ad was now lounging in front of her laptop in the little light cast by its screen.

" 'N than da beautiful Hope Faith saved her tru luv VIn frum doz horrible bountie hunters and dey livd haply evr aftr."

She giggled with delight at finishing yet another wonderful story and logged onto her e-mail. Finding several reviews, she giggled again and clicked the most recent one.

'7VTLuvr' it read- that was her online name 'I really like your stories and think ur a fantastic writer! I would really like to meet you in person- where can we meet?' Mary Lou gnawed on her lip. Her parents had warned her about strangers, but if they loved her stories so much they couldn't be all bad could they? No, she decided, of course not, and hit the 'Reply' button.

'tomorow noon the mall. Pic atached.' she attached a picture of the mal closest to her and a restaurant inside. 'i'l be the 1 in a blu skirt.' she double-checked the name of whoever she was meeting and grinned- he had signed it JD Dunne, ATF. At least she was meeting a fellow fan. Sending it, she leaned back and grinned.This felt good.

"WE got a bite!" JD yelled as he bounced along the highway in Chris' Ram.

"Who?"

"That 7VTLuvr chick-she's agreed to meet us at the mall on 76th outside the Arby's. Says she'll be the one in a blue skirt." Chris grinned and handed the walkie talkie over to Nathan, who radioed the other car- Josiahs suburban. Much merriment could be heard through it when he had told them, and Chris got off the highway and headed for the mall, grinning savagely, to wait for their prey to appear.

When Mary Lou left the house the next day, she was wearing a blue skirt the height of society's current ill-considered opinion of fashion. When she got to the mall, JD didn't have a lot of trouble spotting her. She was the only one in the entire mall with enough bad taste to follow fashion that closely. He approached her, and they were talking soon enough. Five minutes into their pseudo-conversation (JD felt like he was talking to a tree), Vin called JD.

"You doin' OK?"

"Yep."

"I'm coin' in, alright?"

"Okay- I'm in front of the Arby's."

"I know. Be there in there in a few. 'Bye."

"Bye."JD snapped the phone shut and looked back at Mary, grinning. "A friends of mine is gonna be coming over here."

What's his name?"

"VinTanner."

Seriously?"

"Totally. There he is." JD pointed behind her and she turned to look. And took off running- with a speed only lust can give. Luckily, Vin had plenty of practice in running away from rabid fangirls.

JD ran after her, and Vin ran from them both. And led her straight into the other fives inescapeable clutches.

The last time Vin saw her, she was screaming "Mine! My own! My precious! I'll get you my pretty!...".

And so it went. Game, set and match- twenty-two times in less than two weeks. An e-mail, someone to meet the prey and a lust object- it was almost too easy. One they had the fangirl in their clutches, they used a device JD and Josiah had cooked up using their fan-gifted superintellects to drop them into their own stories. As they should have been.

In other words, the girls weren't pretty, couldn't shoot to save their lives (or anyone else's), their horses were stupid, slow and hated them, birds crapped on them, rattlers bit them, everything either hurt or smelt or both, and their lust objects uniformly failed to appear. Nothing went right, no one fel for them, and life generally sucked.

In other words, they were dropped into reality.

And it repeated. Dead or not, it kept them alive, and it repeated until they were rescued by their captors, who by then they both feared and respected, and all signs of lust had been erased. If it hadn't been, they went back in.

And the boys were having the time of their lives.

Revenge, especially mass revenge for years of accumulated pain, is especially sweet.

And they decided to make this an annual event.

Just to keep the badfic population down, of course.

Not because they looked forward to it all year, spent hundreds of dollars on t-shirts that said 'Repent or DIE!', 'Our Turn', and 'Anything that does not kill me had better do enough damage to keep me from firing back.' (Vin personally invested in several that read 'What Part of DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS Don't you understand?'), but just to keep their own injuries down to a minimum.

Oh, who am I kidding?

Those two weeks were the best of their lives.

Because revenge, cold or otherwise, was the most delicious thing they had ever tasted.

As always, feel free to contact me- reviews or otherwise. If anyone wants to write about Marys adventures in RLLand, feel free, though I would like to be contacted. Now I need to go soak my eyes, All that bad spelling is killing me...


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